


The Shoulder.

by Fishyz9



Series: Body Parts [3]
Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 02:43:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16966194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishyz9/pseuds/Fishyz9
Summary: A series of missteps and injuries with a patient boyfriend on standby. Jealousy leads to an accidental injury. Nico has some healing hands.





	The Shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> These 'body part' fics are written as stand alones and do not need to be read in order.

For a Doctor I’m really not that smart. You’d think I’d know how to not injure myself, that I’d have some basic understanding of how muscles work, but oh no. No, you see when jealousy comes into the picture, all common-sense evacuates.

I’m not sure what kind of result I was expecting, like I could lift a few fifteens and suddenly muscles would sprout out and I’d look like them? I guess at the very least I thought it would give me something else to talk to Nico about, and then if Nico was talking to me about – what did they call it… _strength and conditioning_? Then he wouldn’t need to talk to him so much.

And what’s wrong with them talking? Nothing, I can acknowledge that. Nico doesn’t flirt with me any less, he doesn’t look at me any differently, but he doesn’t exactly rebuff the guy either. I think there’s perhaps some admiration there on Nico’s behalf; at least I hope that’s it. But this patient? Mister pro bodybuilder, three time world champion bla bla whatever? He’s got eyes for Nico, _big_ time, and I hate it.

And really how much of a pro can you be if you can practically snap your leg in half doing the thing you’re supposed be a champion at? That’s what’s landed him at Grey Sloan Memorial, in Ortho, in Nico’s vicinity. Now he’s resting up and Nico drops in whenever he can to ‘check on him’ but really Nico wants to talk shop and about the guy’s career, asking advise, which… ok, that’s kind of cute. He’s like a kid meeting superman, except this superman is a blonde, blue-eyed lion of a man who keeps looking at Nico like he’s kibble.

I hate jealousy, I _hate_ it. Because it’s not even like Nico and I are this… _defined_ thing yet. We flirt, we take advantage of every on call room and empty stairwell possible, but are we dating? I… don’t think so? There was the ambulance, but we haven’t actually slept together, something I’m eager to remedy if… if this is going somewhere. _Could I sound any more like a teenage girl right now?_

Goddamn you Nico Kim with your perfect, stupid face and lips and hair and shoulders and arms and voice and smile. I want to be completely unaffected by this; I want to feel completely secure and confident because _that’s_ sexy (that’s Nico). You know what’s not sexy?  A desperate nerd buying a couple of dumbbells so he can somehow gain fifty pounds of muscle overnight in his mother’s basement to impress his sort of but not quite boyfriend, make out… _person_.

Now the muscles I did have hate me and are punishing me. Turns out that YouTube isn’t the best guide when it comes to lifting weights for the first time and maybe, just _maybe_ I should have gone to a gym and spoken to someone. A professional. Like _him_. Ugh.

Now I’m just…at home, miserable, sore and annoyed because I could be patiently waiting for Nico to get off shift right now. I could be kissing that perfect man _right now_. Instead I’m flat on my back, wondering how I made it through the day in this much pain without anyone really noticing.

Stupid rotator cuff. That’s right, YouTube, I have college textbooks and an entire medical database at work I can consult, I don’t need you for that! Not only that but I have my good friends Tylenol and Advil to see me through this. Perhaps I shouldn’t have taken both, though.

I hear the doorbell ring and groan. Mom’s out and I am _in the basement_. I’m not getting up. I don’t care if it’s someone with the cure for cancer I am _not_ getting up and climbing those stairs again. I reach into my pocket when I hear my phone ping.

<3 Nico: Are you home?

I sit up almost straight at that, hissing at the sudden movement. Oh my god, that’s not Nico at the door. Nico Kim is not standing at my front door right now.

<3 Nico: Your car’s in the drive.

Nico Kim is standing outside my front door right now.

I scramble to sit up and make my way up the stairs, attempting to text at the same time. Something a klutz like me – an injured klutz at that – should never do.

Me: One second.

<3 Nico: Oh look, the door’s unlocked….

“Wait, I’m coming!” I yell out.

When I get to the front door and whip it open he’s leaning against the doorpost, looking all perfect and suave, smirking. Meanwhile I’m out of breath and sweating from both my quick dash and unexpected panic.

“Hi.” He says innocently.

“W-what are you doing here?”

“I didn’t get to see you much today; I wanted to check you were ok. You seemed a little…”

I try to mimic his casual pose but wince and brace my hand against the door frame instead.

He raises his brow at that “…a little delicate.”

“I’m…I’m ok. You didn’t need to come all the way out here to check on me.”

“You were quiet, too. That’s not like you. You’re usually babbling excitedly about a medical procedure or you’re telling me off about something.” He finishes with an affectionate smile. “I totally love that, by the way. You’re like this cute, wound-up little chipmunk with glasses when you’re mad at me.”

I let go of the door frame, my hands wresting on my hips. “ _Chipmunk_?”

He grins, lifting his chin. “There it is.”

“That is the least sexy thing you could have ever possibly said about me, Nico Kim.”

“I like it when you use my full name, too,” he laughs, stepping forwards. He tries to look around me. “So are you going to invite me in? Is your mother home, or…?”

I hold my hands up when he tries to sidestep me. “Hold up, n-no, she’s not, she’s at her book club, but…”

“Awesome.” He says, his hand brushing against my waist and his lips pressing softly against my temple as he steps past me, the _sneak_.

He stops suddenly in the hall. “Oh my god, it smells amazing in here.”

“That’s leftover meatloaf.”

He looks around as he shoulders off his jacket. “The benefits of living at home, I guess.”

I pull his jacket out of his hands, hanging it up. “ _I_ cooked that.”

When I turn back around to face him he’s looking at me, one of his perfect brows arched in question. “What?”

“You cook?”

I shrug. Which hurts. “When I have time.”

His hand gestures up and down at me. “So you’re this cute _and_ you cook. That’s what you’re telling me.”

“It’s just meatloaf.” I admit almost shyly. “You should taste my homemade spaghetti and meatballs.”

He smothers a grin, staring at me. I narrow my eyes at him.

“Do not make the obvious joke.” Despite pointing a warning finger at him I let out a small laugh. How does he always make me laugh?

“Oh, believe me; I’d _love_ to taste your meatba–”

“Ok so can I fix you a drink or something?” I talk over him, and he laughs. He follows me into the kitchen.

“No, I’m fine, I just– oh my god it smells even better in here.”

“Nico,” I say, leaning against the counter because ow, my poor back. “Would you like some meatloaf?” I can’t help the gentle smile pulling at my lips. I didn’t know he was a foody.

He bites his lip. “…Yes?”

I laugh softly and point to one of the top cabinets. “Plates are in there, grab two. I haven’t eaten yet either.”

“How can you resist this smell?”

I shrug. “I heated this up for my mother before she left. I lost my appetite earlier.” _Watching that guy flirt with you…_

“Ok, well, as soon as we’re done here I want to look at that shoulder.”

That surprises me, and my face must say as much. He practically rolls his eyes at me.

“You can’t think much of me as a doctor if you think I wouldn’t notice you walking around stiff as a board. All quiet and sullen, I might add.”

“N-no, I don’t think that…”

He points to one of the draws in question and I nod. He pulls out two sets of knives and forks and places them beside the plates on the kitchen island. “The question is, _how_ did the lovely Levi injure himself.”

I’m too caught up by the unexpected compliment to answer. When he glances down at my hands and back I snap out of it and serve up the meatloaf. “Oh, well, I just, uh…I slept funny.” I shrug, instantly wincing.

He gives me a level look. Leaning against the island on one forearm as he picks up the fork, then points it at me. “You don’t damage your rotator cuff by sleeping funny.”

“How did you…?” I begin, then simply sigh and shake my head as I walk to the breadbox and pull out a loaf. I tear off two large chunks, placing one in front of his plate, the other beside my own as I pick up the fork.  “Your thing is _bones_ , how can you tell just by looking at me which muscle it is?”

“Well – _wow_ is this good” he says, frowning as he takes another quick bite. “Bones may be my thing, but so is lifting weights.” He puts his fork down to tear off a small piece of bread. “I recognise the way you’re carrying yourself because I’ve _had_ that injury, it sucks.”

I sigh. “Yes it does, but I’ll live.”

“You’re dosed up?”

I nod.

“God, even the bread is good.” He says absentmindedly, frowning at his food.

“I made that the other night. I was stress baking.”

He blinks at me. “You made the bread, too?”

“Umhm.” I say around a mouthful of meatloaf.

He shakes his head. “Anyway – wait, ‘stress baking’?”

“You sure you don’t want a drink?” I ask, quickly changing the subject as I turn and open the fridge door, pulling out a jug of orange juice.

“What were you stressed about? Or is that a stupid question to ask an exhausted intern?”

I lift the jug and he shakes his head no. “It doesn’t matter.”

The slight narrowing of his eyes tells me he’s not buying it, but he lets it go, for now. “As I was saying, you don’t get an injury like that in your sleep. What did you do?”

“Are you done?” I ask, nodding at his now empty plate.

“Sadly, yes. You’re a great cook. If medicine doesn’t work out for you can I hire you as a personal chef?”

I laugh softly, filled with quiet pride. “It was just meatloaf.”

“And fresh home baked bread. And you said something about meatballs…”

I take his plate, smothering a pleased smile. “Behave, you.” I warn, dumping the dishes in the sink.

“You haven’t answered my question.”

“God, dog with a bone much?”

He frowns slightly. “What’s so weird about me wanting to know how you hurt yourself?”

I have no answer for that, if anything it’s actually quite thoughtful. “Nothing.” I say almost apologetically.

He walks around the side of the Island, stopping in front of me and leans his elbow on the counter. He doesn’t say anything but tilts his head slightly, not pushing but waiting.

I let out a sigh. “All this talk this week about…about weight lifting and working out, it just made me curious,” I shrug and wince – _how many times, Levi_ – and hope that he doesn’t find me too pathetic.

Something in his expression softens. “You… you were lifting weights?”

I avoid eye contact. “Umhm.” His hand under my chin forces me to meet his eyes.

“I don’t want to flatter myself here, but does this have anything to do with a recent, flirtatious patient of ours?”

I can’t help but press my lips together in a tight line. God knows what my expression looks like but it makes Nico snort quietly.

“Ok, Levi…”

“I just thought,” I interrupt him, sighing. “It’s something you’re clearly really interested in…”

“Know what else I’m interested in?”

“What?”

He looks at my lips and dips his head to press a soft kiss to them. “You.” He says quietly.

I can’t help the semi-pleased smile that spreads across my face. “I know.”

“Good. And you know that I was just stoked to meet the dude, right? That I admire what he can do simply because, well…” he looks down at himself. “I don’t want to sound like a dick but physical fitness is obviously something I’m into.”

I snort, my hand sliding up along his bicep, just under the cap of his t-shirt sleeve. “No kidding.”

He smirks, which quickly morphs into a soft smile. “You don’t think I was flirting back, do you?”

“No,” I say tentatively, finally meeting his eyes. “You didn’t exactly stop him, though.” I admit.

His smile falters slightly, and a look of guilt flashes over his face. “No, I guess I didn’t. I think…I figured I’d ignore him so I could keep talking to him. Kind of a once in a lifetime opportunity thing.”

I bite my lip. “I was standing right there.” I say quietly, and I suddenly realise that _that’s_ where these hurt feelings are originating from.

“Ah, dammit.” Nico almost whispers, more to himself than me. “I… this isn’t jealousy. I actually hurt you.”

I look away, shaking my head. “I wouldn’t… it’s not like _that_ …”

His hand brushes my cheek, forcing me to look at him. “I’m sorry.” He says genuinely.

I brush his head away, a flush of embarrassment creeping up my neck. “You don’t have to apologise, I mean it’s not like we…” I sigh, realising that I’m digging myself in dipper.

“What?” He asks, frowning. “Levi…”

“It’s not like we’re…together?” I bite my lip. “Are we? I mean… I’m not the…the clingy, pushy guy who needs to know exactly where this is going. I get that I don’t get to be jealous...”

“You get to be jealous.” He says, almost confused, frowning at me. “And yes, okay perhaps we’re a little undefined at the moment, but that just means we get to savour the journey.”

He can obviously tell that I’m a little unsatisfied with that answer, so he carries on. “Ok, are you seeing anyone else?”

I blink at the sudden change in direction. “No.”

“Great, me neither.” He lifts his chin. “You like me, Levi?”

I swallow. “Yes,” I say quietly. “A lot.”

Something in his eyes softens. “I like you too. I like where this is going and I’m content to let it play out.” He brushes a stray piece of hair out of my eyes. “But I do apologise for letting that big, blonde slab of meat flirt with me so obviously without shutting it down. Whether you were in the room or not.” He shakes his head. “Guess I’ve been so focused on work for so long that my dating skills are a little rusty.”

 “So…we’re dating?”

He grins, tilting his head as he watches me, but otherwise ignores the question. “I forgot how to be a gentleman when it comes to really sweet, cool guys who also happen to be awesome cooks.”

I completely soften. “No you didn’t.”

“You stress-baked.” He says with a soft laugh, like he finds it the cutest thing in the world.

“I’ve done that since I was a kid.”

He grins, laughs. “Sorry, just pictured a cute, ten year old Levi all stressed out over Dungeons and Dragons, baking cupcakes.”

“You’re not far off the mark.” I laugh.

He dips his head for a soft kiss. “Do me a favour,” he says silkily. “If you want to lift weights, let me show you how.”

“Pfft. Now that I know the hulk isn’t a threat I’m just fine with being small and kind of squishy.”

He lets out a laugh. “One, there’s no threat, no competition where you’re concerned. Two, you’re perfect, exactly as you are.”

How is this man so wonderful? Without thinking I lift my arms to wrap around his shoulders and then hiss in pain. He’s so perfect he makes me forget I’m injured.

“And _that_ is partly why I’m here.”

He walks to where I hung up his jacket and pulls something out of the pocket.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Oil. I’m getting my hands on that shoulder.”

“Um, I don’t know…” I say, backing up unconsciously.

“Didn’t you hear me before? I’ve had that injury; I know what’s going to make it feel better.”

“Yeah, ok I guess.”

“Well don’t sound _too_ enthusiastic. Now,” he says with mischief in his eyes. “Where’s this basement?”

 “What? Oh no.  Nope, nope nope nopety nope the sofa will do just fine.” There’s not a chance in hell he’s seeing my childhood bedroom. Which is unfortunately also my current bedroom. “The sofa will do, surely?”

“Fine.” He shrugs, walking past me towards the Livingroom. “Aww, baby Levi pictures!”

I grab his hand and pull him towards the door leading to the basement. “Goddammit.”

He laughs and follows me down the stairs. “It can’t be that bad, you’re a grown man now, surely – are those Lord of the Rings posters?”

I close my eyes and cringe. “Ok look, this was my man cave when I was in high school, I went away to college and my mother didn’t change a thing. I’m hardly here now as it is being an intern so I haven’t, uh, I don’t…”

He shuts me up with a kiss. “I always had a thing for Legolas, personally.” He murmurs against my lips.

I grin and break the kiss. “Wait a minute, are you a secret nerd?”

“I’ve never played Dungeons and Dragons, so I don’t know if I qualify.”

“Ah, nope, sorry, automatic disqualification.”

He smirks and pulls gently at my shirt. “You need help with this?”

I start to carefully undress. “No I’m – ouch. Yes, yes please.”

He helps me slide it over my head as I gingerly pull my arms free.

“Ok Schmitt,” he taps my butt softly. “Get on the bed.”

I smirk to myself. “If only fifteen year old Levi could see me now.”

“You really never got any action down here?”

“Not until recently, and not with any guys, _ever_.”

“I don’t know why but that turns me the hell on.” He laughs, and I feel the bed dip beside me where he rests his knee.

I lay on my stomach, hugging my pillow. “You didn’t have to do this, you know.”

He’s rubbing some of that oil or ointment or whatever it is into his hands. I try not to gasp and instead swallow hard when I feel him straddle me from behind. He leans down, his voice husky against my ear.

“This really isn’t as altruistic as you think it is.” With that his slick hands gently rub into my shoulders, ever so gently, working the strained muscle there.

Involuntarily I let out a low groan. “Oh my god, why was I fighting you on this?”

“Because you’re stubborn and perhaps a tiny bit prideful. But you’re also sensible and logical and know when to shut up and accept help.”

“Rhetorical question, Nico.”

He snorts in answer and continues to work my back, even trailing down my spine. I’m not even thinking about the noises coming out of my mouth until his hands stop moving. I look over my shoulder and he looks half smug, half in pain.

“You’re killing me with all that noise.”

“I’m being noisy?” Even I can hear how drowsy I sound.

He shakes his head, takes a deep breath and then puts his hands back to work. “Just wait until this shoulder is better. That’s all I’m going to say.”

“’’Mkay,” I mumble into my pillow, not really listening, just feeling. “You know, we should just both quit medicine. I’ll be your cook and you can be my masseur. We can travel the country.”

I feel him lean over me to speak into my ear. “How about we keep that as a backup plan?”

I suck in a quick breath when I feel his lips against the back of my neck. “Nico…” I sigh, and then groan again and arch unconsciously when those lips travel down to my shoulder.

“Careful,” he says. “Your back.”

 “God I wish I wasn’t hurt right now.”

“Why?” He asks, lips peppering lingering kisses against my shoulder, his hands now resting down on my hips. “What would you be doing if you weren’t hurt?”

“I’d be begging you to keep going, I’d be tearing your clothes off. _God_ you look good without a shirt on.”

I look back when I feel him shift away, and squeeze my eyes shut and groan when he lifts his shirt over his head. “No fair.”

He leans back down, the warmth of his chest against my bare back making me gasp.

“You like that?” He asks huskily into my ear. “Skin to skin? Your back against my chest?”

“Oh my god…” Did I just push my hips back against him? Judging from the way his hands flex and grip my hips tightly, I think I may have.

“ _Levi_ …” The move took him by surprise, obviously, and I feel his brow rest against the back of my shoulder. “Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea.” His voice sounds strangled.

“This is the best idea you’ve ever had.” Emboldened by arousal I push my hips back against him again. “Put your hands back on me. _Please_.”

He groans, and while one hand remains on my hip, anchoring me, the other slides underneath me, over my chest and brushes my nipple. “This was so not when I had planned.” He moans. “My intentions were good.” He laughs pitifully.

“Could not care less.” I say, reaching for his hand against my chest, bringing it up to my lips to kiss.

His brow pushes against the back of my neck and suddenly his hand pulls away from mine and in one quick movement slides down to cover my groin, groping. I gasp, hips bucking against him. “ _Nico_ …”

“Just…just be careful of your shoulder.” He says, his hand pulling at the ties to my sweats and tugging down.

When his hand circles me I’m a goner. In fact his other hand holds my hip down firmly. “ _Don’t_.” He says, sounding breathless. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

“You’re telling me not to move.” I say disbelievingly as I instinctively move my hips, sliding in and out of his hand. “This isn’t healing, it’s _torture_.” I groan.

“Levi…” I wait for him to say anything else, but he doesn’t. Instead, the hand at my hip tugs with minimal effort at my sweats and I feel them slide down, over the curve of my ass. His hand ever so gently stokes gently over my cheek. “Beautiful,” he whispers.

I can feel my whole body trembling, and feel almost relieved, certainly less exposed when his chest presses against my back again. Except now I can feel the denim of his jeans against my bare behind which takes my breath away.

“…Can I?”

I don’t know what he’s asking until I hear the snap of his jeans and feel the unmistakable shape and heat of his arousal laying against the crease of my ass.

I lick my lips quickly. Look back at him over my shoulder. “Y-you want to? Now?”

Through some sort of thick haze something seems to click and gives me a reassuring smile, shakes his head no. “No, not that. When that happens it should be pain free, I just meant this…”

Two things happen. His hand on my groin strokes firmly, just as his own hips flex against the curve of my ass, his arousal sliding firmly between the crease of me.

My free hand darts out and pushes against the headboard. “Oh my god.”

“Okay?” He asks.

“ _Yes_ ,” I hiss. “Oh my god, Nico…I-I wish…”

“Shh…” he breathes against my shoulder, continuing to stroke me as he slowly grinds behind me. “We will, when you’re better.”

“Nico…oh my god, _please_ …”

I gasp and then let out a breathless laugh when I feel his teeth playfully bite my shoulder, his lips pulling into a smile when he kisses the sore spot.

“You’re going to be wild in bed, I can already tell.”

“I can’t imagine it getting much better.”

“It does, trust me. I’m going to make you feel so good.”

“I already –” I break off to gasp. “I already do. You’re amazing.”

“ _My_ Levi…” He almost growls against my shoulder as his hips move quicker against me, his hand stoking me, bringing me closer to the brink.

“I need…Nico, I need…please…” Perhaps it’s the desperation in my voice, the way I say his name, or the exact moment I looked very my shoulder, through hooded eyes at him, but his brow creases and he screws his eyes shut tight. His brow presses against my shoulder and I feel a hot, dampness in jets spread against the curve of my behind and over my lower back.

His hand continues to stroke me, working me to completion and tipping me over a moment later. I cry out, biting my own bicep as my hand pushes back against the headboard.

There’s nothing but the sound of panting and the feel of warm flesh against warm flesh for the next few minutes as we recover. His hand strokes down my side, his lips pressing to the back of my shoulder as if asking without asking if I’m ok. This was obviously not what he had planned and he wants to know that I’m alright with how far we took things.

I gingerly roll onto my side and he lies next to me. I think the way I instantly scoot closer, reaching out for him answers any of his doubts. His hand follows the curve of my neck as he pulls me close, his nose brushing against mine as he presses a kiss against my lips. 

“That was…” he starts.

“I had no idea,” I say. “Wow.”

He smiles lazily, his thumb following the curve of my cheek. “You’re not hurt? That was a tiny bit irresponsible of me.”

“I’m ok. I’m great, actually.”

He laughs softly. “I meant your shoulder.”

“Oh.” I rotate it carefully. “Tender but ok.”

“I really did just intend to rub your shoulder.” He says, almost chagrined with himself. “It was just... the noises coming out of you…damn it was sexy.”

I feel myself flush and he laughs.

“You have something I can clean us up with? Before we stick to the bed?”

I blush. “Just grab my t-shirt.”

He does so, and pauses. “Your mom doesn’t do your laundry, does she?”

I roll my eyes. “God, Nico, _no_.”

“Just checking.” He says, making quick work of the both of us.

When he lies back down, I bite my lip, hesitating for a moment before I encourage him to lay flat so I can curl up against him. He hums in approval, his arm instantly drawing me close against him.

“This is nice,” he murmurs into my hairline.

“Sure is.” In fact it’s bliss.

“Here’s an awkward question and one that I haven’t asked in a long time. When’s your mom getting home?”

He laughs when I groan and hide my face against the crook of his neck. “I need to get my own place. Like seriously…”

“How about next time we move this over to my apartment?”

“Yes please. I like that idea very much.”

He lifts my chin so I have no choice but to meet his eyes. He presses his lips to mine, and I don’t know what he’s thinking but I can tell he’s holding back a grin.

“Bring the Legolas poster.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
